apped the _Parnass_. 'And then you come to us to share the
expenses!'

'Well, what do I want with a barometer?'

'It'll do to tell you there's a storm when the chimney-pots are
blowing down,' suggested the _Parnass_ crushingly.

'Put it in your window--you'll make a profit out of it,' said Mendel.

'Not while Simeon Samuels is selling them cheaper, as with his Sabbath
profits he can well afford to do!'

'Oh, he said he'd stick to his Sabbath profit, did he?' inquired the
_Parnass_.

'We never touched on that,' said Peleg miserably. 'I couldn't manage
to work the Sabbath into the conversation.'

'This is terrible.' Barzinsky's fist smote the table. 'I'll go--let
him suspect my motives or not. The Almighty knows they are pure.'

'Bravo! Well spoken!' There was a burst of applause. Several
marine-dealers shot out their hands and grasped Barzinsky's in
admiration.

'Do not await me, gentlemen,' he said importantly. 'Go in peace.'

XII

'Good afternoon, Mr. Samuels,' said Solomon Barzinsky.

'Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?'

'You--you don't know me? I am a fellow-Jew.'

'That's as plain as the nose on your face.'

'You don't remember me from _Shool_? Mr. Barzinsky! I had the
rolling-up of the Scroll the time you had the elevation of it.'

'Ah, indeed. At these solemn moments I scarcely notice people. But I
am very glad to find you patronizing my humble establishment.'

'I don't want a barometer,' said Solomon hurriedly.

'That is fortunate, as I have just sold my last. But in the way of
waterproofs, we have a new pattern, very seasonable.'

'No, no; I didn't come for a waterproof.'

'These oilskins----'

'I didn't come to buy anything.'

'Ah, you wish to sell me something.'

'Not that either. The fact is, I've come to beg of you, as one Jew to
another----'

'A _Schnorrer_!' interrupted Simeon Samuels. 'Oh, Lord, I ought to
have recognised you by that synagogue beginning.'

'Me, a _Schnorrer_!' The little man swelled skywards. 'Me, Solomon
Barzinsky, whose shop stood in Sudminster twenty years before you
poked your nose in----'

'I beg your pardon. There! you see I'm a beggar, too.' And Simeon
Samuels laughed mirthlessly. 'Well, you've come to beg of me.' And
his fingers caressed his patriarchal beard.

'I don't come on my own account only,' Barzinsky stammered.

'I understand. You want a contribution to the Passover Cake Fund. My
time is precious, so is yours. What is the _